False Memories
by Humida
Summary: A claymore horror story taking the events after teresa's death and twisting them around for the ending at the end. enjoy!


She was watches, small, frail, incapable of doing anything to help the woman she admires but knows is so vulnerable. Clare watches, her hand clutching at her chest in fear, teeth biting into her gums hard enough to draw blood. She shivers, her heart beating rapidly in unison to each slash of blade against blade. The shrieks from the other woman... monster... terrify her as the sounds ripple through her body.

She watches, sad that she can not help Teresa at all. Only hide, fearful and small. Frail and weak.

And yet, for all her fears, Teresa seems more than capable of handling the situation, her blade deflecting blow after blow. Her eyes glow a strong amber looking towards the monster woman who is her enemy, skin mottled and rippling. The next attack slams the monster woman backwards, her body twisting as it begins to bulge. Clare watches with elation as Teresa stands above the deformed woman, happy she is still okay, but part of her still fears for Teresa's safety...

As the monster leans its head forward and begs, Clare whispers that Teresa stay away, to not be fooled by the monster's pleading. But Teresa nods, her beautiful curls waving in the air and she raises her sword, waiting for a moment to draw the final slash, to bring it down on the other so she can retain her humanity. Clare waits for the movement expectantly, for her fears to be put to rest and mean nothing. She waits for this nightmare to come to an end.

There is a blur of movement, something coming past the monster and part of Clare hopes it's Teresa bringing down her gigantic blade to behead the monster. That is.. Until that blade clatters next to her hiding place, the hands of Teresa still gripping the hilt firmly, but... without the rest of her body, the ends now bloody shafts.

She doesn't even see when the monster's blade takes Teresa's head. She can only stare at those hands, the hope she had in them, still holding a deathly grip on the sword that should be their salvation, lying so uselessly on the floor.

If she were bigger, if she weren't weak, Clare thinks, she'd be able to take that blade, lift it and take it to Teresa, or help her. Do... something... instead of standing here helplessly, only able to watch...

The thud of the body wakes her from her trance and Clare turns, her eyes wide, seeing a body crumpling to the floor, the monster next to it, its muscles still rippling over its body. The creature turns cold amber eyes towards her, eyes narrowing for a split second before growing larger, a flash of energy exploding from its body, a shriek coming from its lips.

Clare holds her arms up before her, blocking the energy lashing out at her, that extreme heat burning the surface along her arms, blinding her eyes. Her own scream is overshadowed by that deafening howl of the monster that used to be a girl not much older than she. That sound, mixed with so many others mix in a cacophony of horror. And though she does not wish to, Clare swears she pick out noises among all the sounds, like those of bone and flesh ripping, the earth rumbling, stone and debris flying towards her and ripping along her arms and cheeks. And over it all, that continued wail as the thing that once was a woman shrieks, the sound she makes getting deeper the longer she maintains her scream. And then...

Just as it began, it ends. Smoke billows up from the floor, steam rising. A creature steps out from the mist. A nightmare of beauty and hideousness. Purple, lizard like skin flows on a beautiful woman's body, ending with twisted arms and legs, wings sprouting from her back looking like those of a giant moth, the edges seeming shredded. A long thick horn protrudes from her forehead with wispy white hair replacing her brown. Most striking though, are those eyes, a strong yellow, seeming to lack anything of human emotion. Just looking... dead. And Clare can only think this creature, this woman, is the epitome of everything evil and what she would do, what she would sacrifice, to bring this monster down. To take down the one who stole away that which she cared for most in this world. Teresa.

She doesn't remember when, but at some point the monster flew off, a giant towering over her, seeming to not have noticed this small frail twig of a girl standing next to a barely concealed rock wall. She must have simply been too insignificant to notice. Something beneath the creature's attention.

She walks numbly towards the downed body of Teresa, the woman she'd followed now for weeks. Except.. Now she has no hands or head. Her head... it lies with hair spread out before it like a wings, eyes shut and so serene, as if she were coming out of the water. If only that were true. For that head lies several feet away from the body.

Clare kneels down, feeling her shoulders shake, her fingers trembling as she leans her arm out, taking the head that seems so large against her small frame and cupping it close to her body. She almost feels as if there is a pain in her stomach, one that is sharp and jagged and she lets herself cry, sobbing against the hair of the mother figure she's known for what feels like so long now. She cries loudly for the longest time, not caring who hears or if the monster even returns. She simply... cries.

She doesn't remember how or when she picked Teresa's head up, or how long she'd walked, with eyes staring, people coming near and then shying away. She doesn't remember how long she'd searched, only that she eventually found him, one of the men in black. And when she found him, she'd held out that disembodied head, holding it before her like a weapon and told the man to put Teresa's flesh inside of her, to make her a warrior.

There had been a twist to the man's lips, a flicker of teeth and then he'd extended his hand to her. As she'd complied, she'd understood... her life would forever change, and not for the better. But it would be worth it if only she could kill that one horned beast. For Teresa.

When the operation commenced, when the men came to her, tying her arms and legs down on the cold table, tools laid out on a smaller table with Teresa's face slowly skinned, looking hideous and flesh was pulled away from the cheek and jaw, Clare could only shiver in fear, watching the knife coming down towards her. She'd remembered crying, screaming, the pain in her stomach seeming to grow. They had seemed not to pay any attention to her, her noises just things they'd become accustomed to after so many years working the procedure. One had even turned towards her briefly, grinning with a lipless mouth, half his face missing as one lidless eye looked down at her and she'd felt her heart stop, fear truly taking hold of her as her limbs had tensed.

The knife had descended, the blade cutting into her flesh, splitting it open, so much warm blood running down her body, her small frame going into shock, then pitch black. Emptiness.

Time had gone forwards then, she weaker than the rest, not having the pure blood the others did, but her will was greater than any of theirs. In the end, while the training was difficult, she lived. Others did not. Her determination kept her alive. For in her mind she was always seeing that tall slender form with those cold dead eyes... watching her, and in turn that motivated her, kept her going, pushed her to be stronger. She survived where others did not. All for the purpose to avenge Teresa and bring down the monster who took her away. Except, that monster always seemed so far away, beyond her reach. But she would find it, and she would end it.

It is some time later when she finds the boy, Raki. A young man just entering puberty with scruffy and a scar along the right side of his face where an yoma who'd taken over his brother had hit him. He'd lost his entire family but thanked her. Thanked her for avenging him. She doesn't know why, but at that time, she asked if he wanted to accompany her. Just like with Teresa, that pain gnawing at her stomach, reminding her of what she must do. Always reminding her. She'd relented.

The village, having realized the boy's brother had been the monster, threw him out and so he had no one. She supposes this may have been it. He reminds her of herself when she was alone, scared and frail. In his tears and sadness she could see herself before Teresa. So she allowed him to follow and because of him, he helped keep her from turning into a monster like the one who killed Teresa. For that, she would always be in his debt.

Months later, when it was deemed she was capable of fighting the awakened like the purple monster, she met others like her and began to make friends among those named her comrades. Battle brought them close, but not all of them.

One with a long braid and maniacal smile took her arm, tried to kill her, saying she was the same as an awakened being. A warrior who turns themselves into a monster. It is not true, she'd never allow herself to turn into a monster like that... but it seemed to make little difference to the warrior. The woman struck at her as if she were a monster already and she lost Raki, that side of her older self, only to find one of the warriors who'd come to take Teresa's head minutes later.

Clare remembered her then. The leader of that strike force of which the monster had been part of. She'd lost her own arm there, though Clare had never noticed, too distraught with the loss of Teresa to notice or care. Yet here she was and she trained Clare with her remaining arm. When her limits were reached the woman gave Clare her own arm and Clare once more searched for the monster, and that part of herself she lost.

Through it all, her pain accompanied her, that pain eating away at her insides. Worry, fear, insecurity, all of it eating away at her and grinding down to the bones. She always fought it, always tried to remember... why she was still alive and she'd push on, persevere. In spite of the pains she felt.

Battles brought she and her comrades close but the monster always remained out of reach as did the boy, never where she searched until they were already gone. Comrades lived. Comrades died. A circle of death and destruction which Clare found herself unable to stop. She locked herself away, within the body of a mistake, trying to rectify her misdeeds as well as contain the monster when she finally found her. Found her and was defeated by her all too easily. She could only contain the creature, not kill it. That was her pain, her burden to bear alone. Then the boy found her. He came back for her, made her release the monster and come back, and she did, voluntarily. For as much as she wanted the monster dead, she wanted something from the boy that she could not explain and went back.

The battle then ensued. Teresa came back. Came to finish the monster and bring a final conclusion to the nightmares.

She disappeared, she thought and as she holds Raki's hand, feeling the warmth in it, for some reason she feels that feeling... fading. His smile drifts, those eyes becoming empty pools as a light seems to burn him. She doesn't understand. What is happening? What?

"Clare..." says a now recognizable if old voice.

"Teresa?" she ask, her heart beating rapidly, tears forming at the edges of her eyes. "What is it? Why are you back?"

The woman tilts her head, smiling sadly, the first traces of tears forming at her eyes. "I... I'm sorry I couldn't protect you... Clare..."

"I... don't.. Understand..." says Clare, the tears forming at her eyes. "We beat her! This..."

"Was a dream, Clare. Something your mind made to cope with the pain."

Clare looks around now, seeing herself walking in a mist. The world she knew is gone, no trace of it to be found. Even her age and size disappear, leaving her once more in her thin body that is small and frail, filled with... pain? The pain that had been a constant that now fades. Why? Why is that? Why does the pain fade now?

"Teresa?" she ask, her body trembling, knees knocking against one another as she watches tears run down the woman's face. Then she taste it. She wishes she never did. The hot iron running down her lips, and she feels her stomach, looking down at it, her hands coming away covered in red. Red liquid that runs down her hands and arms, covering her.

As her mind is ready to break she thinks she finally understands. Understands why Teresa is here and she screams...

Priscilla lifts the little girl's head away from the body, sounding with a pop as it is removed. Now the girl's body is nearly bone except for some of the torso. Even the bone Priscilla had taken to crunching, savoring the fat in between layers of tissue. She looks at the girl's head and smiles, licking lips that are stained red with young blood. She watches as the girl's mouth opens, as if wanting to scream but only bubbling with blood trailing down her open mouth instead. Priscilla looks over it in curiosity.

She thinks that the girl had only stood there as she'd towered over her. The hunger had been fierce and she'd lunged at the girl without thinking, her mouth opening wide, lips pulling away from sharp fangs and then she'd felt the first taste of sweet flesh and blood. The clothes had gotten in the way, certainly, but not for long. Soon, beneath, there was the flesh, warm and delicious.

Her mouth had worn at it, tearing strips of meat and tendon away, swallowing, drowning in the fragrant taste and smells. The girl had resisted, screaming, pounding feebly with small fist against her skull, to little avail. She'd simply dug her teeth in deeper, grinding against ribs and bones, taking it all in.

Her mouth waters and she leans forward towards that stricken face, her teeth closing on the girl's lower lip and pulls, stripping away a piece of flesh, revealing the white bone beneath as she does so. She chews slowly, simply looking at those eyes, which still stare, wide and frightened and smiles. How she loves the taste of .. Children.


End file.
